


Rana Risu

by spinner33



Series: CM - Close to Canon [36]
Category: Criminal Minds
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-05
Updated: 2015-12-05
Packaged: 2018-05-05 02:12:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 4,649
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5357063
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spinner33/pseuds/spinner33
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Aaron’s mother arrives for an unexpected visit.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Hotch was in the study working, and he was not happy. It was a beautiful, sunny, brilliant spring Saturday, and he was feeling pretty bitter about the fact that he was inside working when he could have been outside enjoying the weather and finding something useful to do with himself.

There were times when he regretted his decision to take a management career path in the FBI. He could have stayed in SWAT and had a fantastic career. The pay wasn’t quite as good, but as he glanced down at the unending stack of reports he had to go through before Monday, he thought about all the nights and weekends he had spent doing these reports, like Sisyphus pushing his rock up the hill, and it irritated him to his core that he couldn’t seem to pull himself away from his job in order to enjoy some of his life.

Aaron sighed heavily as Jack came running through the study and threw himself against the window, pressed his face tight to pane, and strained to see downward.

Hotch knew what that meant – Reid was outside mowing the lawn, and he must have reached the side yard next to the driveway. Aaron made a mental note that he needed to buy a push-button-start lawn mower for Spencer before the young doctor jerked his arm out of the socket trying to pull-start the ancient artifact he was now pushing around the yard. Reid had purchased the mower second-hand and tinkered with it for a week before he fixed it. Now it purred smoothly as he pushed it around the small swath of green between the house and the driveway.

Jack pined anxiously, like a dog watching someone eat M&M’s. Longing filled every fiber of his small person.

“Dad???”

“How’s he doing?” Hotch asked.

Jack did not move an inch, kept staring downward. “Done with the back. Done with the other side. Done with the side too. He’s headed for the front next.”

“That’s pretty fast,” Hotch decided. 

“Dad??”

“What, buddy?”

“I could go out and help,” Jack pleaded. 

“Not while the lawn mower is running.”

“Bobby’s dad lets him walk around and pick up the sticks and big rocks when he mows.”

“Bobby’s dad has three sons. He’s got replacements if Bobby gets run over by the lawn mower.”

“I’d stay out of the way of the mower. Reid’s going around front! He’s almost done. Dad????”

“Jack, I don’t want you out in the yard when the lawn mower is on. It throws sticks, rocks, pieces of metal. If the blade comes off while the mower is running, you could lose a toe, a finger, foot, a hand, an eye.”

“Maybe you should get a riding mower,” Jack fantasized from the window. Hotch shuddered as he considered all the accidents that could occur with a riding mower. Jack caught the look on his father’s face and muttered, "I guess not."

There was a rumble of something heavy moving over gravel in the driveway, audible even over the lawn mower. Hotch joined Jack at window. A dark brown panel truck pulled in behind Hotch’s SUV. A young man in a brown uniform with shorts got out, carrying a package. He glanced at the house, and then towards Reid in the front yard, and decided to head towards Reid.

As the delivery man crossed over the stripes of mown green grass, waving at Reid to get his attention, a muscular blond man emerged from out of the barn and headed stealthily around the house and into the front yard as well. Jack looked up at Hotch as if to confirm that his father had also seen the figure.

Reid saw the delivery man. He shut of the mower and waved back. Hotch headed downstairs and opened the front door. Jack was glued to his heels. Spencer accepted the large wrapped box from the young man. The doctor read the return address and lit up brightly with excitement. He was shaking so hard that he could barely sign his name to the hand-held device the driver was holding up for him.

Hotch and Jack stepped across the front porch. The figure from the barn was in full view now, leaning against the porch column closest to the driveway. It was one of the members of Reid's security detail that they had not formally met. He had blond hair, a square head, and a scar that ran from above his left ear, through his short-cropped hair around his head to the nape of his neck. He had one arm folded behind his back, and a Glock held tight in his hand. He heard Hotch and Jack, gave them a sideways look, a silent nod hello, and resumed watching Reid and the delivery man.

The young man in brown nodded goodbye to Reid, and headed back for his truck. Reid hugged the box to his chest and hurried for the house, almost stumbling with excitement. The blond man vanished between one second and the next. Reid hadn't even seen him.

“What’s in the box?” Hotch questioned, unable to avoid noticing how Reid smelled—damp with sweat and fresh-mown grass. There were fragments of grass in Reid’s hair and stuck to his shirt, bits stuck to his skin.

“It’s from Doctor Allison,” Spencer grinned happily. He was sunburned and sweaty and so adorable, Hotch just wanted to grab him and hug him. Goody ventured out the open front door, and was waiting on the porch to see what his favorite humans were doing. The cat tripped Hotch on his way to Reid. Goody sniffed at Reid's green-tinged pant leg, and rubbed on his shins.

“What about…?” Hotch pointed to the half-finished front yard. It was a hopeless cause though. It would have taken a celestial, cataclysmic event to pull Reid away from his box with the toy surprise inside.

“I’ll do it!” Jack offered, dashing off the porch.

“Hey! Hey! NO!” Hotch hollered, following his son. Goody looked up at Reid, over at Hotch and Jack, and followed Spencer inside. What cat doesn’t prefer the mystery of a closed box better than the noise of the lawn mower? Hotch wasn't entirely unhappy at the prospect of having to finish the lawn. He pulled the cord and started the mower again, letting Jack hold the handle and walk behind the mower with him.


	2. Chapter 2

Reid sat cross-legged on the dining room floor, calmly sipping from the mug of tea in his hands. He was sunburned on his face and neck and upper arms. His wet hair trailed droplets of water down into his teeshirt and bathrobe. He stared around dining room, smiling blissfully.

There were several small plastic boxes laid out on the floor. The dining table was covered with them as well. Each one contained bones, or fragments of bones, teeth, tufts of hair, skulls—body parts were fully recognizable to the trained eye. Reid’s eyes lighted on the smallest collections of remains. No doubt they belonged to a very small infant. His eyes dimmed with seriousness.

Hotch sat down on the top of step of the staircase, and called down to Reid.

“You should see yourself,” Aaron murmured. 

Spencer lifted his hair to blink at Hotch. He was thinking the same thing but didn't say so. Hotch was freshly-showered and still warm from his brief stint in the sunshine. The early evening light lit his handsome features, casting his shadow onto the wall behind him.

“From the Queen’s Perch,” Reid babbled, motioning around.

“Yes, I know. Doctor Allison wants you to analyze them?” Hotch replied. He let his gaze fall across the remains, tried hard to pretend he was okay with this.

“Catalogue and test and profile, yes,” Reid nodded. 

“Why you?” Aaron sighed. He hadn't been able to pretend for very long.

“He knows how much I like puzzles,” Reid replied.

“Where are we going to put them for the night?” Hotch asked.

“Put them?”

“You don’t mean to leave the remains of all these people lying around in the dining room, do you?”

Reid stared at Hotch blandly, as if to reply, well, yes, that had been his every intention. Hotch knew without a doubt that if Reid was living here alone in this big house, those little plastic containers with human remains would be sitting on that dining room table until he was good and done with them.

“You could put them in the study,” Hotch suggested. 

Reid continued to stare blandly at him. 

“Spencer….”

Reid relented, his shoulder drooping. He sipped his tea and frowned to himself.

“We need milk. I’m headed out,” Hotch said. “Jack!?” he called out.

The bathroom door creaked open. A little blond head popped out.

“What?” the boy called back.

“You want to go to the store with me?” Hotch asked. 

“I’ll be right there!” Jack screamed.

“Let out the water, and put your toys away.”

Hotch watched Reid, who was pouting, sipping tea, looking cranky.

“We shouldn’t be more than half an hour,” Hotch promised. “Do you want to come along? We could go to dinner after?”

“I’ll wait here for you,” Spencer answered, hiding in his earthen mug and not meeting Aaron’s hopeful gaze, nor the crestfallen frown that followed.


	3. Chapter 3

It was an hour later, and Spencer was working steadily through the most tempting box of assorted remains-- the box that Dr. Allison had marked "me first!" So far Spencer had pieced together a pair of hands belonging to a pre-teen child. What he found most curious was the fact that the assembled bones formed two right hands. He had to admit - he was intrigued. Either this unfortunate youngster had had two right hands, or, more likely, these were hands belonging to two pre-teens. But why had Dr. Allison put them both in the same box? Had the hands been found together? What was the connection between these two individuals?

Reid had ditched his bathrobe for a loose pair of jeans, and his hair was almost dry, falling into his face in waves and unruly curls. He was wearing his glasses instead of his contacts because his eyes were tired and scratchy.

There was a knock on the front door. Reid ignored it at first. He was too intent on his work. Twilight had arrived, and night would soon follow. A shadow moved before the window. The knocking returned, more insistent than before. Spencer growled, put down the tiny feathery brush he had been using to dust off one slender, beautiful phalanges. He walked in the direction of the door, being careful to step around the plastic containers.

Reid opened the door and turned on the porch light at once. A tall, regal, well-dressed woman stood on his porch. Her short, silvery-gray hair was perfectly-immaculate, but she was touching it gently with well-sculpted nails, worried one hair might be out of place.

She was not beautiful, but rather a handsome woman instead – strong and self-assured. She had a ramrod straight spine. She was in her mid sixties, and from an upper-middle-class background judging from her manner of dress and her expensive but not flashy jewelry. She wore a wedding band, a ruby ring, and ruby earrings to match. The rubies in her ears glinted like dark red drops of blood. Her face felt eerily familiar. Spencer knew he knew that nose, at the very least.

“Hello. I’m looking for my son. I must have knocked at the wrong door. I apologize for disturbing you, young man. If you would be so kind as to direct me?”

“Yes, ma’am. Come in,” Reid said, opening the screen door and bidding her to enter. He glanced at the silver gray BMW in the driveway and felt a glimmer of insecurity rush his veins. The car had New York plates. Didn’t Hotch’s brother Sean live in New York?

“I must have written the address down wrong. I am so sorry if I disturbed your dinner. Oh!”

The woman’s eyes lighted across the plastic containers, and she cast worried, dark eyes back at Reid. Her heels clicked on the wooden floors as she faced him.

“Um…forensics work....” Reid said, motioning distractedly with one hand.

“I see,” the woman whispered, touching her hand to her heart. She followed Reid into the dining room and peered with curiosity at the plastic containers.

“This must seem grisly. I hope I haven’t frightened you. It’s just that a friend asked for help with analyzing the remains. I couldn’t wait to open them and get started. That sounds bad. I must seem odd. Such a grisly thing to be excited about,” Reid continued timidly, rolling the hem of his teeshirt in his fingers and staring at the floor nervously. “I do apologize. Please don’t be alarmed.”

“Young man, I studied medicine in college. The human body and its mysteries are not at all grisly to me. Finding twenty odd sets of human remains in someone's dining room is certainly a surprise though. This is not the sort of thing one should have in the house,” the strange woman decided primly, folding her hands together, and resting them on her abdomen.

“No. You’re right, of course. Not the sort of thing," he agreed timidly.

“You should put them away properly, especially with a child in the house,” she added, frowning.

Reid gave her a curious, almost frightened look. She pointed to the Legos and toy trucks that were spread around the coffee table in the tv room. Wasn't it obvious that a child lived here?

“Oh, yes, of course, you're right,” Reid nodded, smiling again. “Jack thought they were pretty interesting too though. Maybe he'll become a scientist, a doctor, or an archeologist. Last week he wanted to be an astronaut. He's such a smart boy."

“You must be Dr. Reid,” the woman decided grimly.

“Dr. Spencer Reid,” he nodded. Then he frowned. "How do you....?"

“I am in the right place after all,” she said. “Is Aaron home?”

“He’s….he and Jack went to get…. Who are you?” Reid stammered.

“I’m Mrs. Hotchner,” she explained crisply, as if talking to a very slow child. “The other Mrs. Hotchner. Alison Hotchner. Surely you understand. I’m Aaron’s mother.”

Spencer blinked at her and gulped loudly. The look of distaste she was giving him was freezing the blood in his veins.

“Who is the man standing at your back door?” Mrs. Hotchner asked in some alarm.

Reid turned around and looked through the kitchen. The back porch light was haloing around a figure on the stoop. He was young and tall, with an impressive build. He had short, messy, dark red hair and a sprinkling of freckles across the bridge of his snub nose. He opened the back door with a key and cleared his throat before he spoke.

“Everything okay, Dr. Reid?” he asked deeply. He held his right hand down to the side of his muscular thigh.

“It's fine, Miles,” Reid answered. "Thanks for checking."

“Do you want me to stay?” 

“No, Lieutenant. Thank you.”

“I saw Agent Hotchner coming up the outer road. He should be here any minute. Good night,” Miles said, vanishing once again, closing the door tight.

The young man holstered his weapon and adjusted the holster on the way back to the barn. He had drawn his gun in case it was needed. Mrs. Hotchner stared at Reid with wide eyes. The moment was not lost on her—the red-haired man would have shot her if he had deemed she was a threat to Dr. Reid.

“Do strange men with guns often burst into your kitchen uninvited?” Mrs. Hotchner asked.

“Not always,” Reid offered shyly. Lights in the driveway illuminated the tv room and wavered around the dining room. Spencer sighed with relief.


	4. Chapter 4

“I would have called ahead, but it was a last minute decision. I was here in Virginia to see the Sisters, of course, and the last time we talked, you said I should visit, that we could have lunch together. I realize it’s late in the day for lunch, but dinner will be nice. Do you remember this place? I brought you and Haley here for dinner when you got engaged. I do hope this is not an unpleasant surprise.”

“Yes, I do remember, Mom,” Aaron murmured, sipping from his water glass for the tenth time. He didn’t seem to know what to do with himself. He searched longingly through the busy, upscale DC restaurant, wondering what was taking Reid and Jack so long to find the restroom and return to the table. How dare they leave him alone with his mother?!

Hotch spotted Reid holding Jack on one hip. They were lingering in the hallway outside the restrooms, studying the art on the wall. Reid was explaining the paintings in great detail to Jack, who looked as if he could listen to Spencer talk all day. Jack laid his head on Reid’s shoulder and caressed his hair lovingly. Reid faltered momentarily, and put his head against Jack’s head, smiling sadly and sweetly to himself.

“Jack likes him. At least there’s that,” Mrs. Hotchner commented. She had observed the direction of Hotch’s gaze, and had seen Jack with Spencer.

“Jack adores him,” Aaron smiled. 

“He’s young for you, isn’t he, Aaron?”

“Mom, he’s thirty.”

“He’s younger than Sean? Aaron! That's not appropriate.”

“Only by a couple years.”

“It's unseemly. He looks much younger than thirty, I have to say. I thought he was a college student, or perhaps a teaching assistant. Dweebie. That’s what Sean said when I asked about him. Whatever that means. You’re forty-six, Aaron.”

“Forty-five,” Hotch answered stubbornly.

“He is much too young for you,” his mother replied firmly. "You can't keep this going."

“How are the Sisters?” Aaron wondered.

“I know you don’t care at all how my sorority sisters are, so don’t change the topic. We were discussing your inappropriate relationship with someone young enough to be your son. You have to stop this at once.”

“Mom….”

“To say nothing of the fact he’s a man,” she whispered.

“Mom…..”

“Though I must say, he is not what I imagined you would find attractive in a man. I feared he would be one of those strange creatures you see on television, in a dress and high heels and a falsetto voice, pantomiming a parody of a woman. But him? I am surprised. He is masculine, but in a beautiful sort of way, like one of Raphael’s Renaissance angels. Androgynous, even. He has a pleasant face. A good chin. A nice jaw. Reid. Is that English or Scottish? Where is he from? What do his parents do?”

“Mother…” Aaron growled, making his voice deep and harsh. She twitched, and he knew why. He had sounded so like his father when he talked that way.

Reid settled Jack into his chair, blushing brightly. Spencer had of course heard some of what Mrs. Hotchner had said. He had led Jack back to the table, approaching from behind Mrs. Hotchner, so she hadn't seen him until it was too late. To his credit, Reid sat down, kept a tiny, unreadable smile on his face, and kept his mouth shut. He took a sip of water and folded his hands in his lap.

Under the table, Hotch put a hand on Spencer’s knee in an attempt to be soothing. Reid flinched at the touch and bumped the table. The jolt upset his glass. Reid dodged back with a startled squeak as the ice cold water flooded the lap of his impeccable dark blue suit. Mrs. Hotchner motioned for the waiter. Jack giggled softly, but one look from his grandmother silenced his amusement. Hotch dabbed his linen napkin across Reid’s thighs and between his knees, down onto the surface of his chair.

Hotch stopped when he realized where his hands were headed - where he was grabbing and patting Reid. Spencer was biting his mouth closed, but his eyes were bulging out of their sockets. He pushed Aaron’s hands gently away, pulled his knees together, and dried his own lap. Reid was struggling not to smile or laugh out, or maybe cry, Hotch couldn’t decide. Reid caught Jack’s sad expression, and smiled nervously at him. The little boy’s face brightened at once.

Mrs. Hotchner observed them with critical dark eyes, and took a hefty gulp of white wine. She gave a deep, disappointed sigh as she studied the water-dappled tablecloth. No, Hotch realized, his mother was looking at Reid’s hand, at the golden circle that glittered on his ring finger. Spencer realized it too, and pulled his hand under the table again. Reid was blushing, tucking himself physically into as small a space as possible without actually climbing under the table itself. Mrs. Hotchner was staring sharply at Aaron. Hotch reached sideways, and rubbed Reid's shoulder reassuringly. Mrs. Hotchner's disapproval of the gesture made her face appear even harder than it already was.


	5. Chapter 5

Their bed was so silent that night that croaking frogs were audible from in the creek that ran through the patch of forest on the far edge of the yard. Reid had opened the windows when he had finally come to bed around one in the morning. Hotch had wanted to get up and close the windows, but he didn’t dare crawl out of bed, not after Reid was finally close to him again. The room was chilly, and Hotch wondered why the cold wasn’t effecting the amphibians out in the water.

Aaron glanced at the clock – almost three – and cursed the little croakers vehemently. Reid sighed, rolled flat onto his back, and clutched the blankets, tugging them against his chest.

“Rana sylvatica. American wood frog,” Spencer whispered.

“Noisy bastards,” Hotch muttered, comforted by the fact that Reid was still awake too.

“The croaking is a mating call, individualized to each species, used to attract appropriate females.”

“Mm hmm. Fascinating,” Hotch hummed. 

“Because they breathe through their skin, and they must keep themselves constantly moist, amphibians are highly-susceptible to toxins in the environment. We will have to be careful what kind of fertilizers we use in the lawn.”

“Or conversely….” Hotch suggested with dark intent in his sleep-deprived heart. He heard a tiny snicker from Reid, and replied an invisible smile.

“We should take Jack down to the creek tomorrow, and see if we can locate the frogs in the daylight. I’m sure he’ll find them interesting,” Reid whispered.

“And we will play loud rock music and disturb their sleep,” Hotch suggested, rolling onto his side and putting an arm around Reid’s waist.

“I’m sorry if your mother is mad at you because of our relationship,” Reid blurted.

Hotch nestled his nose into Reid’s hair, kissing him on the ear.

“Reid, my mother has been mad at me since the night I was conceived. We’ve always had a love/hate relationship. None of that is your fault.”

“I’m sorry,” Reid whispered. 

“It’s actually a good thing.” 

“How is that?”

“Her dislike of me made me stronger, more self- reliant. She has always perfectly clear from the very beginning about where we stood with each other. Her honesty simplified everything somehow. I knew better than to expect comfort and affection from her, and I knew all of my glaring defects, because she was constantly pointing them out to me.”

“Did you move to Seattle to get away from your mother?”

“I’d’ve moved to Singapore,” Hotch sighed, “but Haley insisted Seattle would be far enough. My Uncle Jack was the same way. Cold as ice with people. No human warmth. But he’d shed real tears for a horse with a broken leg.”

“Why did you name your son after him?”

“My Jack is actually Jonathan. He’s named for Haley’s father, Jonathan Brooks. Jack is a nickname. You should see how much Jack looks like Mr. Brooks.”

“I didn’t realize…..” Reid whispered sleepily.

"They keep asking to meet you. Jack talks about you to them all the time. When you're ready...." Hotch let the thought trail away because he could feel the tension in Reid's body at the prospect of meeting Haley's parents. "You don’t know how happy I was when Jack was born, and he was blond, and he looked like Haley," Aaron added, changing the subject.

“I do understand,” Reid whispered, caressing Hotch’s chin. "Hm. I would like to study your jaw in great detail someday."

"What's that?"

Reid didn't answer. He was measuring Hotch's chin and the sides of his cheeks with delicate fingertips. This wouldn't have weirded Hotch out so much, except that Reid had spent the rest of the evening after dinner with Mrs. Hotchner fingering and measuring and studying the remains of dead people, including a skull or two. To have your lover touching your face and telling you they want to study your bones was more than a little creepy. Hotch took Reid's hands away from his face and held them on his chest.

“So tell me, what are my defects, in your mother’s opinion?” Reid asked in a soft whisper.

“You are far too young for me. Younger than Sean. She always has liked Sean better.”

“I’m sorry. You make me glad I’m an only child.”

“Worst of all, you’re a man. Sean said I shouldn’t tell her. Maybe he was right.”

“That’s not you. With notable exceptions, for understandable reasons, you have always been truthful.”

“With notable exceptions,” Hotch almost smiled again.

“It goes without saying that I feel you should have told me the truth about Emily faking her death. But I do understand why you and JJ and Emmy made the decision that you made.” 

“Do you?”

“Yes.”

“Good. Finally. It’s only taken a year for you to come around.”

“But I want you to know, if any of you ever lie to me like that again, I’ll be really pissed.”

“Duly noted,” Hotch whispered.

“Okay,” Reid murmured. Aaron dotted a kiss to his ear again.

“Spencer, you don’t have to meet my mother’s approval. I don’t even meet my mother’s approval. So don’t worry. I don’t give a damn what she thinks of you,” Hotch rumbled softly in his lover’s ear. He felt Reid give a crooked smile.

“At least your mother didn’t try to claw my eyes out,” he chuckled.

“My mother is more adept with cutting remarks than she is with physical confrontation.”

“Oh, you haven’t heard my mom when she gets on a real tear,” Reid mumbled. “She can shrink your confidence in three languages, and smile at you the entire time.”

“So that’s where you learned how to do that,” Aaron joked, rubbing Reid’s stomach.

A thin hand landed unceremoniously in Hotch’s crotch.

“If that’s your confidence, it certainly isn’t shrinking.”

“Sorry about the napkin in the lap,” Hotch cringed.

“You should have seen your mother’s face,” Reid squeaked. “It wasn’t the napkin. It was your hand. It was me. You put your hand there, and my knees said, ‘Nookie!’ Everything else followed suit. All I could think was, ‘Oh my God, you’ve got your hand between my legs, in front of your mother, and I’m getting hard for you. She's watching you touch me, and she's furious, and.....’ ”

“I thought you were going to cry,” Hotch admitted.

“I was trying desperately not to laugh,” Reid grinned.

Hotch nuzzled another kiss to Reid’s ear. Reid rolled onto his side, and Hotch spooned in behind him, giving him a tender lick or two on the neck. He put his nose to Reid’s ear and made a quiet croaking noise.

Reid lost his composure – shivering with muted laughter.

“Phrynosoma cornutum ,” he whispered. 

“What did you call me?” Hotch asked.

“Horny toad,” Reid snickered, burying his head in their shared pillow and shivering with more laughter.

“Rana risu,” Hotch teased lovingly in Spencer’s ear, sliding a hand down his abdomen and biting him gently on the neck.


End file.
